


Silence [1D/Doctor Who]

by Jar_Of_HeartsXx



Category: Doctor Who, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gen, Just some stuff I came up with, Might have River in it...idek yet...it's just a drabbl-y kind of thing that could be a story, Time Lord!Louis just because I can, might have Amy and Rory, well it's 1d and Dr Who and yep that's the shiz i like
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-14 10:25:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jar_Of_HeartsXx/pseuds/Jar_Of_HeartsXx





	1. Doctor Who?

Louis had always been slightly different from most children.  He was eccentric, witty, smart (if he actually tried anything) and, mostly, hyperactive.  But, no matter the counselling, special school, and tutors, no one could conclude that there was anything in particular wrong with Louis.  He most certainly did not have ADHD - his psychological and learning capability was fine, he just learnt things so quickly and got bored so easily that it was hard for his mother, and anyone else he was affiliated with, to keep up. 

Which is why the famous-pop-star-travelling-every-second-day, lifestyle worked for him; he always had somewhere new to go, something new to try, someone new to meet.  Little did Louis or his mother know that that was the exact lifestyle his biological father relished in, and the trait had been passed to Louis.

Not that neither Louis nor his mother knew exactly who his biological father really was.  Apparently, before he had impregnated Jay (Louis’ mother) and told her it was a _huge_ mistake, he had gone by a certain code name which, in his childhood, Louis had believed to be associated with secret agents and superheros.  So, seeing as he had never been told much more about the mysterious ‘travelling man’, for twenty-one years Louis was led to believe that his father was indeed a spy (or central intelligence of some sort) and he just couldn’t be around the family for their own safety. 

But that all changed within moments one morning in London.

~

All was silent, as per usual for a Saturday morning in the Styles/Tomlinson residence.  Apart from the obnoxious chatter of birds outside the windows, and the occasional howl of autumn wind, the two males living in the top-floor apartment were undisturbed.

Well, that was until a seemingly earthquake-causing crash shook the roof and reverberated down every stairwell and off every window, tearing one of the two boys from his pillow.  A tremor ripped through the apartment, knocking a few books from their perches on bookshelves, and nineteen year old Harry Styles raced towards the living room to stop anything valuable breaking.  He fretted and fussed while his roommate snored, and was just about to slap Louis to his senses, when said twenty one year old male stumbled into the living room, scantily clad in only boxer shorts and socks (which Harry was a little confused about, because Louis _never_ wore socks...unless he was drunk).  Obviously, the older lad had slept through the stomach turning tremors, but Harry wasn’t going to waste time waiting for Louis to wake up properly before investigating; it was just in his nature to be inquisitive.  He stuffed some clothes over Louis’ head and dragged the older lad by his wrist towards the apartment’s front door.

“Come _on_ Lou!” Harry fussed, intent on getting Louis up the stairs to the roof without injuring either himself or the older boy.

“Okay, _okay_ Haz, I’m coming,” Louis whined, lagging behind Harry just a little as he was pulled into the open morning air.  He honestly thought it was far too early on a Saturday morning to be outside.  (He didn’t know it was already nearly 9:30am). 

Harry dragged Louis onto the building's 10th storey roof, an intrigued smile plastered over his youthful features.  But, on the other side of the roof, where the boy expected to see some kind of UFO or meteorite, he was met with a royal blue police box, one of the old ones that you barely ever found in London any more.   _Huh,_ Harry thought simply,  _Don't see that every day._

Louis, however, was intrigued by the strange blue box that had somehow found itself up eleven flights of stairs.  He noticed a kind of luminescent glow pulsing in the glazed windows, and heard a slight groan of the woodwork every few seconds as the boys sized up their find.  Finding the police box rather oridnary, Harry turned to leave, but it was just at that moment that Louis caught sight of a shadow moving across the screened glass panels of the box.  

With a quiet 'wait', Louis was able to make Harry stay, but just as he began to creep towards the box, anxiety churning in his stomach, the box's door burst open, and in the doorframe stood a young man, grinning at the two adolescents madly.  The man's physical form (and quirky grin) was young and lively, but something in his ultramarine green eyes radiated knowledge and wisdom, the kind that only came with years and years of life experiences.

"Hello," the man exclaimed brightly, strutting towards Louis and Harry without a trace of insecurity in his movements.  Harry was so very tempted to whisper 'on my count, run', but refrained from the vocalisation, in fear of the stranger overhearing.  "May I ask, what's the date today?"

"Uh...it's the 18th of May...2013," Louis was quick to reply, adding the year when the stranger motioned for him to continue after stating the month.

"Ah, perfect," the stranger beamed, rubbing his hands together as though anticipating something.  "In that case, would you happen to be Harry and Louis?"  The two boys nodded slowly, unsure whether they should be friendly towards this crazy man.  But then again, they didn't find it very surprising that the man knew their names; they _were_ celebrities afterall, so it was understandable.

 "Yeah, that's us..." Louis nodded, a little more confident than his younger counterpart in this conversation.  The stranger sighed an almost relieved sigh, to which Louis and Harry were very confused.

"Great!  I got the coordinates right!" the man exclaimed with a quiet clap.

"Coordinates?" Harry mumbled, more to himself than anyone else, but the stranger heard the muttering.

"Yes, the TARDIS needs coordinates to get from one point to another; doesn't every transportation device?" the stranger frowned, his head cocked slightly to the right as though Harry was incompetent.

"Well, yeah, but what exactly _is_ this 'TARDIS'?" Louis piped up once again, suddenly genuinely interested in the conversation.  He had no idea why, but all this new information exhilarated him.  But the strange thing was, he felt like somehow - deep down within his subconscious being - he already knew what the stranger was about to say.

"Time And Relative Dimensions In Space," the stranger - who the boys really needed to find out the name of - stated simply.  "Oh, and if you were wondering, my name's the Doctor," he added, as though he had read Louis and Harry's thoughts, before stepping back inside the blue box.

"Wait, so it's a time machine?" Louis asked, just as Harry blurted (in the most clichéd way)

"Doctor Who?"

The stranger's head popped out from the doorway again, a smirk gracing his lips.  "If I had a pound for every time someone asked that," he chuckled, his head shaking slowly as his eyes skimmed the ground.  And then, before Louis or Harry could respond, the man's eyes were facing them again, bright as ever, and he was asking, "Well, do you want to come in?"


	2. Chapter 2

He had been searching for millennia.  Well, not really - it had only been about two months, but getting the time and space coordinates right on the darn machine - sorry, Idris - had been rather difficult, to say the least.  But now that the Doctor had finally found the right place (and time), he was beginning to feel a little nervous.  He had no idea who this child was - other than what basic information the Tardis had been able to find - and honestly he was uneasy about the whole situation. 

For 21 years the Doctor had consciously avoided even thinking about the child - no, not just the child, but his child - and it had slowly but surely become an awkward and confronting prospect.  There was no chance of escaping the subject now - the boy was starting to actually do something with his feeble human life, and the Doctor had to set his path straight.

And that would involve the biggest fright of all: actually facing the child, telling him the truth...and then seeing his mother again.

Of course, the Doctor had other children – although he preferred not to mention them – but this one was special.  This child was part of a prophesy that the Doctor had known of for so long he barely remembered the details of the encounter.  And now the prophesy was beginning to unfold, and the child needed to be confronted – without him, the universe would suffer drastically.

Amy had been pestering him for months now, an arduous reminder of a painful memory.  And for those months the Doctor had managed to dodge the subject, rebutting Amy's reasons with years of experience.  But eventually, words will always perforate one's stubborn ideals, and the Doctor was forced to think wisely about his situation.  All in all, it couldn't hurt to visit a long-lost relative, especially since the child was the only one the Doctor was able to get in contact with.

But these two months - in which Amy and Rory had postponed time travelling for their wedding - had been painstakingly stressful for the Doctor.  No matter how much he revelled in the sanctity of solitude, the need for human (or any speaking life) contact and communication seemed a necessity in Galifreyan psychology.

*

It was magnificent, all tall ceilings and never-ending corridors, whirring machines and flashing lights.  The man spun dials and flicked switches, mumbling as though the machine could somehow understand his utterances.  All the while the boys stood in the doorway, shell shocked at the sight before them. 

Harry was almost tempted to run outside again, just to check he hadn't been imagining that this strange machine looked just like an old police box on the outside.  Louis, on the other hand, was intrigued by the extraterrestrial nature of the technology.  While the man circled the console, pushing buttons and pulling levers, Louis was studying the almost organic structure of the so-called 'Police Box'; the textured columns that branched to the ceiling like that of a tree, and the natural, throbbing lights dotted along the walls.

"So, what exactly  _is_ this thing?"  Harry pondered aloud, gripping the railing as he crept up to the main deck.

"This  _thing_ is Idris, my Tardis," the man, who still hadn't mentioned his name, said somewhat coldly, speaking through gritted teeth.  His face softened then, and he gazed up endearingly at the glowing green column, "been travelling with her for about 800 years, the beauty,"

At this Louis and Harry shared a glance.  800 years?  Was this man mad?  No one could live that long - but then again, this man had just appeared on a tenth storey roof in a police box that was bigger on the inside, so who knew what else he was capable of.

"So where do you want to go?" The 'Doctor' walked towards the boys, rubbing his hands together, "Or I suppose a more appropriate question would be  _when_ do you want to go?"

"What?" Harry asked again - this whole situation was so far-fetched that he was finding it difficult to comprehend anything that had happened in the past five minutes.  Louis sighed at his friend's incompetence.

"It's a time machine, Harry," he explained, then turned his attention to the Doctor, "Can we go to London in 1942, please?"

"Oh yes, of course!  I wonder how Winston is going after the Daleks?"  With that the Doctor was rushing to the controls again, dashing around the circular structure until the central column glowed green and something inside slid up and down.  A whirring noise pervaded the boys' ears as the Tardis began to shake, and the Doctor exclaimed over the din, "You might want to hold onto something!"

Louis and Harry lurched towards the nearest railing, gripping on for dear life as Harry's face turned pale willow green.

A minute later the shaking-in-a-blender feeling was gone, but the effects lasted, as Louis saw in Harry's dizzy eyes and pale face.  He really wasn't faring well with all of this.  Louis pulled the younger boy to his feet, supporting him until the dizzying effect stopped.

The Doctor jogged past Louis and Harry to the front door of the Police Box and threw it open, an excited grin on his face.  “Here we are!” he exclaimed.

 

Men in uniform rushed past the Tardis doors, barely noticing its presence, as though it was a ghost.  Louis noticed this, and promptly (for they would surely be found out soon) asked “Shouldn’t we land in a less populated place?  Y’know, so they don’t suspect anything?  I mean, you don’t exactly just see a police box in the middle of a hallway,”

 

The Doctor turned from his perch on the doorstep, and grinned maniacally, “That’s what the  _cloaking_ is for,” he explained, “anyone who passes will  just see the Tardis as something of everyday ordinance, like a broom cupboard, per say,”

 

Louis, still gripping Harry’s shoulder tightly, wondered forward, just to peer out the tardis doors.  Indeed, militant personnel were rushing past, steely expressions and smart uniforms in a khaki blur.  No one payed them any attention as the boys as they looked around the World War Two military base. 

 

Down the hallway someone was shouting, getting closer and closer along with the ever present smell of cigars.  The boys shared a look as all the staff moved aside, and storming down the hallway came Winston Churchill, yelling and ranting and blowing puffs of cigar smoke.  Louis and Harry shared a look, before they were being pulled by the elbows into the hall, dashing after the iconic British Prime Minister alongside the Doctor, the eccentric man with the time box.


End file.
